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ECHOES 



FROM THE VALLEY 



ROB ROY MCGREGOR PARRISH. 




PORTLAND, OREGON: 

George H. Himes, Printer and Publisher. 

1884. 



/O ZSZ3 



Copyright, 1884, 
By R. R. McG. Parrish. 






i 



NOTE. 



The author is well aware that he enters the literary field, 
laboring under great disadvantages, but conscious of having 
done the best he could, he presents this volume of verse to 
the public, respectfully dedicating it to all who may find 
pleasure and profit in its perusal. 



PERSONAL. 



Rob Roy McGregor Parrish, the ninth and youngest 
child of Hon. Isaac and Rachel Parrish, was born in Noble 
county, in the State of Ohio, January 15, 1846. 

In the spring of 1854, his parents moved to DesMoines, 
Iowa; subsequently to Guthrie county, and later to Harri- 
son county, of that state, where they were both buried — his 
.mother in September, 1857, and his father in August, 1860. 
After the death of his parents he made his home most of 
the time with his brother Theodore, until in the autumn of 
1863, when he went to learn the harness trade, spending 
two years in the village of Redfield, in Dallas county, Iowa. 

In the summer of 1863, in company with his brother, 
John E. Parrish, he crossed the plains, arriving at Salem, 
Oregon, i\.ugust 20th, and on the following day went to In- 
dependence, in Polk county, where he has made his home, 
and worked most of the time at his trade. 

July, 1884. 



INDEX. 



PAGE. 

Advertise 22 

A Mexican Idyle , 16 

Babylon 28 

Baker, E. D 3a 

Business Rule 30 

Childhood's Death 47 

Custer 125 

Day by Day 139 

Decoration 13 

Dear Friend, Remember 49 

Dear is the Thought 70 

Did You Ever Stop? ... 144 

Do Not Strike a Fallen Brother 32 

Do n't Forget Me 135 

Doomed to a Den of the Damned 116 

Down Beneath the Maple 72 

Driving the Golden Spike 129 

Every Day Will Bring Some Duty 102 

Fair and Lovely 143 

Farewell 61 

Fill the Vases 66 

Finding of Moses 45 

Garfield 40 

Go, Labor in My Vineyard 107' 



INDEX. 



Hail! Masonry 71 

Bail to Thee! Victoria ; :<i 

Hail! Worthy Eeirs of Freedom 51 

Hast Thou Some Talents ! 55 

Hibernia 149 

Home, Sweet Homo 103 

Hope 86 

Hope, Sweet Solace 59 

Imogene 73 

fn Memory Sweet 101 

I Told You that 1 Loved You 76 

r 've ( tl'ten Stood 136 

Jackson's Address is 

Jennie is Loving Me 97 

John Paul Jones 57 

Kind Friendship's Words inn 

La Fayette 39 

Lady so Fair M 

Let One Word in Kindness Spoken 89 

Life has Many Joys and Pleasures 71 

Little Nell 53 

Lincoln 98 

Lovely Minnie . i'l 

Lucy Webb Hayes 

Mother's Memory "> I 

My Mother's Grave 109 

Mount Jefferson 11 

Mount St. Helens Ill 

Oh ! Why Not the Spirit of Mortal be Proud ? 21 

( )h ! Who is There That Can Tell? 25 

Oh ! Sorrow, Thou Serene and Pure 63 

( )h ! Touch the Lyre of Memory 106 

Our Jolly Sailors 85 

< >ur Lives are not all Sunshine 95 

Our Lives are not all Lottery 120 

Our Truant Eyes 101 



INDEX. 



Plant a Rose Beside Your Window 142 

flack 127 

^rescott'e Address 26 

Pula*ki 140 

Rebecca Mot t 14 

Ring Out the Old 145 

ant Jasper 150 

Sheridan 92 

Silent Bleeping 77 

Sinking of the Cumberland 81 

Song of the Hindoo Girl '■. 11!) 

Spark 1 i ug Eyes 80 

Still Fair, though Faded 105 

Steaming up the Bright Willamette 110 

Sunsel 112 

Tell Me Not that Love is Transient 67 

Tell His Story Bright with Duty. 79 

Temperance Star 14f> 

The .\ pple Trees are Blooming 52 

TheDa'sy ' 64 

The Fisherman's Song Ill 

The Pure in Heart 69 

The Sun is Set 93 

There 's; a Spot Beside t he .Mountain lit 

There \s a Blessing in My Heart 60 

'T is Not Folly to be Jolly 87 

'T is Sweet to be Remembered 68 

'T is Sweet upon a Pleasant Day 4-', 

'1 lie Lily 38 

To Tillamook Light House 88 

Trout Fishing. 56 

Toussaint L'Ouverture 148 

Unknown Heroes 122 

Wails 154 

We Mourn in Silence 31 

While a Smile 90 

When Life and Its Duties 75 



INDEX. 



Why to the Buried Past Complain ? 69 

Willamette 34 

With the Sunbeams 91 

Wither? Yes, They '11 Wither 58 

We Lift Our Hearts, God, to Thee 153 

When Gentle Words Come Bubbling Up 151 

When Rosy-Tipped Finger Aurora 152 

When Fervid Fancy 147 

Willi Love You? 141 




'<s 

- A 



How charming the echoes 

That linger around 
With gladness to give us 

Their welcoming sound. 

How gently and softly 
Each word they repeat, 

And thrill us with pleasures 
Of melodies sweet. 



gjgggjggHHHHHHHBIMHHHH 



^EKMOEg FROM THE UMIb, 



Q&cctvation* 



Bring the flowers from your garden, 
With the sweetness they will yield 

As a tribute to the fallen 
Noble of the battle field. 

Their's was life and their's was pleasure, 
Theii's was kindred warm and true; 

But they gave them all for country — 
Gave up all for me and you. 

Grandly floats our flag o'er country, 
That they gave their lives to save; 

But our heroes still inherit 

Our remembrance in the grave. 



14 Echoes from the Valley. 



When the lovely flowers are blooming, 
In the happy months of spring, 

Sweet memorial's sacred offering 
We, in sorrow, thankful bring. 

Brightest flowers from our dwellings, 
With the fragrance they will yield — 

Loving tribute to the fallen 
Noble of the battle field. 



Oh, for the language to recite 

The thoughts that justice would indite; 

Of a gallant lesson taught 
By a woman brave, a patriot true, 
Who, when the storm of conquest blew 

Around her cherished home, 
Did seize the bow — significant gift 
Of other days — and sure as swift, 
With most unerring aim to send 
A fiery messenger to end 
Their refuge when her foes distort 
Her home into a hostile fort. 

Valiant Rebecca Mott ! 



Echoes from the Valley. 15 

Oh, woman of nerve, with face so fair, 
And generous heart years but declare — 

Thy deed is not forgot. 
Patriot fires will burn and flame 
In glory 'round thy brilliant name — 

Bright gem of the sunny South. 
For home 's the castle of woman's power, 
And whether a palace or cottage bower; 
But woe to us all, will be the day, 
When woman o'er home shall lose her sway. 
Far better a home in ashes lain 
Than fortress stand for tyrants reign. 
Noble Kebecca Mott ! 




16 Echoes from the Valley. 



gl Mexican &&#L 

Every tingle, 

Every gingle, 
Of his softly chiming spur. 

By its tinging, 

Seems as singing, 
Waking memories of her 

Nimbly thumming, 

Gently drumming 
On the mellow-toned guitar; 

By the flowing 

Kiver going 
Through the valley Nolarre. 

Every shadow 

On the meadow, 
As the clouds go drifting by r 

In her dreaming, 

Ever seeming, 
To her earnest watchful eye r 



Echoes from the Valley. 17 

As a token 

Of the spoken 
Yows of him that's now afar; 

Of returning 

To the yearning 
Lovely maiden of Nolarre. 

Lives are sadder, 

Lives are gladder, 
By the fortunes attending; 

Day and morrow, 

Joy and sorrow, 
For control are e'er contending. 

All are striving, 

All contriving, 
In life's conflict for success, 

That is giving, 

While we're living, 
What we call our happiness. 

He is happy, 

She is happy, 
In love's bond of joyous thought. 

Every lover 

Will discover 
'Mong the treasures that are sought, 



18 Echoes from the Valley. 

Greatest blessing 
Worth possessing, 

For the joys it will impart, 
Is the gaining 
And retaining 

Of a true and noble heart. 

Thus the tingle 
And the jingle 

Of the softly chiming spur, 
By its tinging 
Seem as singing, 

Waking memories of her; 
So the shadows 
On the meadows, 

As the clouds drift on afar, 
Token seeming, 
In the dreaming, 

Of the maiden of Eolarre. 




Echoes from the Valley. 19 






&heve'& a &p&t $eMbe the jptouutam* 



There's a spot beside the mountain, 
Where the rippling streamlets flow, 

From their bright and sparkling fountains, 
Sing to me as on they go. 

Life, with all its joys and pleasures, 
Types of bliss more pure above, 

Loses more than half its pleasure 
For the heart that fails to love. 

See the waters gladly meeting, 
With a murmur soft and sweet, 

To each other welcome greeting, 
Giving as they happy meet. 

Wave with wavelet dance coquetting, 
'Neath the twilight, dawn or sun; 

Laughing, kissing, past forgetting, 
They unite their songs in one. 



20 Echoes from the Valley. 

Leaping up to grasp the willows 

That swing tempting o'er their tide, 

While their restless tiny billows 
Clasp the mosses at their side. 

Cloud to cloud again returning, 
Star to star reflecting back, 

With the wind their notes are tuning- 
Joy they spread along their track. 

So should human hearts united, 
Scatter blessings day by day, 

Till their path with bliss is lighted, 
By the goodness of their way. 

Smile the parting, kiss the coming, 
Hope the future, thank the past; 

Sorrow cheering, fancy painting 
With bright colors to the last. 




Echoes from the Valley. 21 

©h! pUuj gU>t the ^pivit of ^tovtctl 



Oh, why not the spirit of mortal be proud? 
For its time is so brief from cradle to shroud; 
All flesh is but dust, and earth will soon have it, 
But spirit returns to the power that gave it. 

Both honor and wealth give a bright dazzling name, 
A moment to gleam by the flashing of fame; 
Though beauty and health hath a charm for the eye, 
And life such a sweetness that loaths us to die. 

Yet honor and wealth, are the dream of a day, 
Loved beauty and health, so soon fade away, 
And life of all sweetness is often bereft, 
But the spirit has joys of eternity left. 

Then why not the spirit of mortal be proud % 
Its trials are fleet as a mid-summer cloud; 
Its mission on earth has only been given 
To prepare it for joys that await it in heaven. 

The spirit 's immortal! — that spark so divine, 
Undimmed through the future, forever shall shine; 
The flesh may moulder to dust 'neath the sod, 
But the spirit, enraptured, returns unto God. 



22 Echoes from the Valley, 




&bv£vti&Ux$. 



" Times are hard and business dull," 

A merchant murmurs 'twixt his sighs. 
Says bustling pluck, of business full, 
u Well, sir, why dont you advertise?" 



Brush up your counters, dust your goods, 

Take people by surprise; 
For printer's ink some ducats spare — 

Wake up, be shrewd and advertise. 

'Tis but a simple business rule, 

That people see with half shut eyes ; 

It seldom pays to act the fool, 
Or cease your goods to advertise. 

The business men about the town 
Are witty, wealthy,, good and wise; 

They realize that thus they've grown, 
By knowing how to advertise. 



Echoes from tjie Valley. 23 

When sales are light and trade would lull, 
If to your store new life you'd bring, 

Just w T atch your Ps and Qs, then pull 
With shrewdness, advertisement's string. 



gucu; $1U£M> ^jatj£#* 



Honor to the woman that dared to do 
The right with a will, albeit she knew 

She stept in some untrod ways; 
Who banished the demon of crime and care 
From the White House tables while she was there. 
And all who would her festivities share, 
Must from the tempting poisonous cup forbear, 
That dined with Lucy Webb Hayes. 

How few are the spirits that dare to clasp 
Such a custom thus with reformer's grasp, 

While the world was looking on! 
But command she gave, and the act displays — 
To a wondering world that astonished gaze — ■ 
Some taunting out jeers, some shouting out praise- 
As beholding the dauntless Lucy Webb Hayes, 

A triumph for right well won. 



24 Echoes from the Valley. 



'Twas a noble deed, it was nobly done, 
And millions will cast their blessings upon 

That fiat through future days. 
Oh, that more of our women did but have 
Such moral courage, like this heroine brave! 
Their perishing brothers thus to save 
From wretched life and a drunkard's grave, 

Like the Christian Lucy Webb Hayes 

Then honor to the woman that dared to do 
The right with a will, albeit she knew 

She stepped in untrod ways. 
Honor to Godiva, the generous one ; 
Honor to Lucretia, the dutiful one, 
Honor to Joanna, the patriot one, 
Honor to fair Esther, the beautiful one, 

And honor to Lucy Webb Hayes. 




Echoes from the Valley. 



25 



- . ~.r\ 




©h! Who ts ®h*vi? ©hat ©an &M ? 



Oh, who is there that can foretell 
What morrow's morn may bring ? 

How many hearts with sorrow swell — 
How T many happy sing ? 

The purest pleasures that can bless 

May perish and be flown ; 
The dearest treasures we possess 

Some other one may own ! 

The friends that we delight to greet 

Before the starlight goes, 
By fortune may be changed, and meet 

.Us as our deadly foes. 

The sun that shines so warm and bright 

May thunder-bolts unbind; 
The zephyrs now so soft and light, 

May ruin soul and kind. 



Echoes from the Valley. 



The seas that now so gently comb, 
While tides flow on so mild, 

May bear destruction in its foam, 
With fury tierce and wild. 

There's nought of earth that can endure 
Time's searing, scorching breath ; 

And mortals here are only sure 
Of one thing — that is death. 



tyve&c0tt'& Q,b'frvg&&. 



Patriots, now at duty's call, 
Heroes stand or heroes fall, 
Swear by heaven, once for all, 
Our country shall be free ! 

Charleston's flames now paint the skies, 
Friends behold with eager eyes, 
Prayers from kindred hearts arise — 
That God defend the just ! 

By the friends we love to greet, 
By the hopes of life so sweet, 
By the hearts that within us beat — 
Then let us do or die ! 



Echoes from the Valley. 27 

See the ranks of hostile bands; 
Pigot leads and Howe commands; 
Welcome them with bloody hands — 
Now to a soldier's grave! 

Nerve your arm and bear your breast — 
Better calm and peaceful rest 
'Neath the sod than life opprest 
By remorseless tyrant ! 

Die we will if die we must, 
Battling for that sacred trust, 
Shielding from their cruel lust, 

Loved homes, more dear than life. 

War to the knife, since peace has flown, 
Knile to hilt and hilt to bone; 
Flesh may bleed and spirit groan, 
But freedom still shall live ! 

Freemen, strike! let despots feel 
Liberty's strong avenging steel — 
Nobler 'tis to die than kneel 
A servile conquered slave ! 



28 Echoes from the Valley. 




wmm>*m 






fW 




Babylon* 

They tell me that some sterile mounds, 

By herds now over run, 
Were once thy temples and thy walls, 

Proud fallen Babylon. 

They tell me that the wild bird sings 

Beside thy gleaming waves, 
Where once with harp of broken strings, 

Mourned fair Judean slaves. 

They tell me that thy marshy plains 
Oft echoed to the tramp 

Of Persian, Roman, Syrian hosts- 
Were Alexander's camp. 

But worse than all, to me they tell 
Those who thy streets then trod, 

Bowed down and worshipped cruel bell, 
And scoffed the living God. 



Echoes from the Valley. 



29 



Thy ruins are more desolate 

And terrible than they 
Who fell the victims of thy strength 

Became thy spoil and prey. 

The hissing serpent, buzzing bat, 

The stupid, hooting owl, 
Join in the chorus of thy fate, 

With jackall's midnight howl. 

Thy brick-ribbed hillocks seem to be 
Dumb monuments of crime, 

Displaying G-od's unerring wrath 
Along the path of time. 




30 Echoes from the Valley, 



*3U0«1C00 |luU, 



Some person which, 

When yon are rich, 
Yonr presence will endure, 

Will quickly make 

Your optics ache 
By snubbing you when poor. 

Friends that follows 

Dimes and dollars, 
Should not be always heeded; 

Events have shown 

They're often gone, 
When they the most are needed. 

'Tis well to know 

Before you show 
Your favors unto many; 

The ones to you 

That will be true 
When you have not a penny. 



Echoes from the Valley. 31 

The motto is, 

In things of u biz," 
Your head keep cool and level; 

Your favors send 

To help a friend — 
Help others to the devil. 



%$e iptamrn in *&iUncg, 



We mourn in silence o'er the form 
Of those that's gone before us; 

For well we know that Dassion storm 
Their life will not restore us. 

The pains of life for them are past, 

No more to e'er return, 
And heavenly joys are their's at last, 

For which we vainly yearn. 

Although affection's tender chords 

Thrill for each going one, 
We find sweet comforts in the words: 

"Thy will, O God, be done." 



32 Echoes from the Valley. 






go llat strike a fallen brother, 



Do not strike a fallen brother, 
Help him up when e're you can ; 

Let him feel though he is erring, 
He's a brother and a man. 

If your brother weary stumbles, 

Help him to arise again ; 
Do not kick him for his falling, 

Add no insult to his pain. 

You yourself will sometimes blunder, 
Slip or tript by quick surprise, 

Make yourself unenvied object 
Of both friend and foeman's eyes. 

Fault should be as little guide-boards, 

By the road we travel on, 
Pointing out direction for us, 

To the goal that should be won. 



Echoes from the Valley. 38 



(&. g), $akev< 



In days of dread, when the cannon's breath, 
By treason's hand so fouly sped, 

Spread o'er onr land its wings of death, 
And many a gallant patriot bled. 

From hall to tent, from tent to field, 
His loyal heart with ardor burning, 

He brought the power he could wield, 
And spirit that was treason spurning. 

His voice that eloquence could warm 
In hall or by slain Broderick's bier, 

Was heard above the battle storm, 
His fading gallant ranks to cheer. 

Brave Baker, who defiant stood, 

' Amid that melting leaden rain, 
Sealed his devotion with his blood, 
Our nation's honor to maintain. 

The foster heir of freedom won 

On fatal field undying lame, 
While many a proud and haughty son 

Still lives to bear a traitor's shame. 



34 Echoes from the Valley. 






3fflHUam?tte* 



Where the snowy Cascade mountains 
Rise to greet the coming day, 

Where the sparkling crystal fountains, 
Ever hold their ceaseless play, 

Where beneath the graceful fir wood, 
With its foliage deep and strong, 

We can hear at morn the wild birds 
As they sing their matin song. 

Where the clouds again returning 
With their burthen from the deep, 

To the desert waste are wand 'ring, 
Yield the treasures they would keep. 

Where the streamlet's merry waters 

Gladly leap to lake below, 
At the sun, in joyous laughter, 

Back their rainbow kisses throw 



Echoes from the Valley. 35 



Where the thunder's mighty chorus 
Echoes on from rock to rock, 

And the ledge, with sound sonorous, 
Rifted is by sullen shock. 

Where the moon her silv'ry glances 
Through the rock-ribbed canyon sends, 

Nature's sublime charm enhances 
With the beauty that she lends. 

Where the stars in magic splendor 
Burst upon the midnight scene, 

And the winds, in mood so tender, 
Come to tell where they have been. 

Where dame Fortune, ever jealous 
Of her wealth so vast untold, 

Buries deep her hidden treasures — - 
Silver, gems and shining gold. 

When the summer skies were brightest, 
O'er that favored sput of earth, 

Nature's cares were few and lightest, 
Bright Willamette had its birth. 



Echoes from the Valley. 



$aU to ©hue, pictorial 

Hail to thee, Victoria! 

Empress of the Indias, 
Proud Great Britain's gentle queen, 

Who now sways thy royal scepter,. 
With such mild, impartial meiu, 

Till throughout thy vast dominion, 
Where the sun -light 's ever seen. 

Loyal hearts leap up and shout- — 
" God bless you, our gracious queen! " 
Noble Victoria! 

Honor to thee, Victoria! 

To the worthy life you live; 
Through it all your loving heart, 

Faithful wife and mother, has 
Constant borne an honored part. 

All thy royal joys and sorrow 
To our feeling hearts attest, 

That the guiding thoughts of love 
Reign triumphant in thy breast. 
Womanly Victoria! 



Echoes from the Valley. 37 

Peace to thee, Victoria! 

May the sunset of thy life, 
Like harmonious tinted eve, 

Lighting up the close of day, 
Somber shades of time relieve. 

Promise of the Prince of Peace, 
Soothe thy spirit to its rest. 

King and crown thy coming wait, 
In that kingdom of the blest. 
Christian Victoria! 




38 Echoes from the Valley. 







®o the £iltj. 




Welcome, Lily, lovely princess. 
Fairest daughter of the spring, 

How our hearts are eager waiting 
For the happiness you bring. 

Morning lark foretold your coming, 
With their notes of matin song; 

Now I find you brightly blooming 
Here amid your flow'ry throng 

That are clustering closely 'round thee, 
Like fond courtiers of delights, 

Keeping watch and guard around thee, 
As thy retinue of knights. 

Each is bearing high his banner, 

Ever ready, quick to rally, 
In a true and loyal manner, 

For the Lily of the valley. 



Echoes from the Valley. 39 

Welcome, Lily of the valley, 

Thou beauteous queen of peace, 
Sweet contentment is your ally, 

May your visits never cease. 



A smile and a tear for the noble and great, 

That rose like a star 'mid the tempest of night, 

To shine with such luster, by action create 

In the heart of the world, a love for the right. 

A smile for his joys, for his sorrows regret, 
As over his life so varied we glance; 

]N"o star in its beauty more grandly shone, yet 
In all of thy history, fair land of France. 

A smile of delight, a warm thankful tear, 
Is the tribute we give on gratitude's debt; 

The name of no alien to us is so dear 

Or near to our hearts as thine, LaFayette. 

Where worth wreathes laurels in garlands of fame, 
And honors in clusters of glory shall set, 

With few that are blest and cherished in name, 
Is liberty-loving, and loved LaFayette. 



40 Echoes from the Valley. 



>av|tcUr. 



Furled is our banner and muffled our drums, 
So mournful the dirge that falls on our ear, 

For a nation united in anguish now comes 
To gather around a President's bier. 

How sad, when peace and plenty have spread 
Their gifts o'er our bright and beautiful land, 

That Garfield, the choice of Columbia, lies dead, 
Struck down by a base and dastardly hand ! 

But u God still reigns," though the brave martyr dies ? 

And his death but closer knits together, 
With stronger, purer, truer, nobler ties, 

All our northern and our southern brothers. 

From o'er the ocean's restless waves we hear 
Those words of soothing sympathy that bind 

With chords of sacred tenderness more near 
The kindred brotherhood of all mankind. 

Rest in peace, illustrious dead, 

Good prov'd thy works, however tried ; 
Of thee these truths are justly said : 
"A patriot lived, a Christian died." 



Echoes from the Valley. 41 









pl^unt &z : ffzx&&n< 



Hail to thee, majestic mountain! 

Clad in snows eternal white, 
Nature, like a sportive fountain, 

Threw thee up in grand delight. 

Limpid streams of crystal water, 
From thy presence laughing spring 

Through the canyons, woodland, meadows, 
Health and pleasure sparkling bring. 

There the sunlight longest lingers, 
O'er thy crest of ermine snow, 

Lighting farewell parting glances 
With warmer passion ere he goes. 

After parting, westward speeding, 
Ever chasing shaded of night, 

Makes the clouds his royal valets, 
Bear a message to thy sight. 



42 Echoes from the Valley. 



Rich, in golden brightness burning, 
Kind, with crimson's light of love; 

Strong, expressed by royal purple, 
To remind he still must rove. 

Then, like modest maiden blushing, 
'Neath an earnest loving gaze, 

All thy sweetly changing colors, 
Such a charming sight displays. 

Till the evening stars are twinkling 
In the heaven their silv'ry light, 

And the winds before retiring, 

Kindly whisper thee, " Good night." 




Echoes from the Valley. 43 




x& gtn*i?£t Iljxcm a tylea&ant SJatj, 



'T is sweet upon a pleasant day, 

In the early month of spring, 
To ramble through the woods away, 

And listen to the wild birds sing; 

To pluck the fragrant, blooming flowers, 
To gather mosses bright and green; 

To cull the hardy winter plant — 
Rejoice in each new beauty seen. 

The birds, springs, heralds of swift flight, 
The swelling buds, the flow'rets fair, 

Woos all my senses with delight, 

And charm me with their magic there. 

The clust'ring mosses growing on 

Some fallen old decaying tree, 
Like thoughts of friends now dead and gone, 

As ever fresh and fair to me. 



44 Echoes from the Valley. 

Like friendships, constant, firm and true, 
That fortune's frown can not destroy, 

The winter plant, so green to view, 
Waves in the wind its welcome joy. 

The golden sunshine, singing birds, 

The plant, the moss, the blooming flowers, 

The flitting shadows of the grove — 
All tell us of a subtle powder. 

Joyous thrills of tender passion, 

The fleeting jealous doubts that rove, 

The constant heart, the clinging hope, 
Are emblems of life's cherished love. 




Echoes from the Valley. 



45 



^mMna of |pta*M?** 



Where lilies lave 

In limpid wave, 
And lotus 'neath the sunbeams smile, 

Sweet Merris comes, 

'Mid their perfume, 
To sport and bathe in placid Kile. 

Her maids of honor 

Attend upon her, 
Delighted to her wish fulfill; 

They laugh and sing, 

And ever bring, 
Enjoyment with them when they will. 

There gently rocks, 

Without rude shocks, 
The wavelets in their mild endeavor, 

To kindly keep 

The child asleep, 
On bosom of that mighty river, 



46 Echoes from the Valley. 



Until they part 

As they disport, 
The happy flags and winds reveal, 

In arch surprise, 

To wond'ring eyes 
Of Merris, trust they would conceal. 

Some curious gift, 

Thus sent adrift, 
So lightly, and to safely float. 
" Go, haste and bring 

So strange a thing — 
I wish to see the little boat." 

A waiting maid 

Her words obeyed, 
And quickly to the pebbly shore, 

With steps of grace, 

And pride-lit face, 
The rush-built ark to princess bore. 

With care the lid 

Was lift that hid 
The infant from the sun's hot rays. 

But who can tell 

The thoughts that dwell 
Within their minds as there they gaze? 



Echoes from the Valley. 47 



Amazed, o'er come, 

With wonder dumb, 
Till woman's heart itself discloses, 

For as the child 

Looked up and smiled,— 
She stooped, she kissed and called him Moses. 



©htlfchoofc'* fpimth* 



As blends the night into the day, 

When radiant, beaming morn comes on, 

And from our view dim fade away, 
Bright shining little stars have gone, 

So childhood's death forever seen, 
Transition's flight to that fair clime, 

We cherish in our loving dreams, 
Beyond the troubled stream of time. 

They still live on, they are not lost; 

Regrets for them but feed our pain. 
When we the stream of time have crost, 

We '11 happy see them all again. 



48 Echoes from the Valley. 

Heirs of Freedom, arise in your honor, 

Asserting the manhood so proudly your boast, 

By the might of the right, the prowess of valor, 
Crush foes that remorseless now ravish your coast. 

Dear to the ear is the din and the rattle, 

When Liberty's legions are mustered to war, 

Till the friends of oppression have perished in battle, 
Or fugitives nee in fear from thy shore. 

"With patriot spirit and carnage-stained hand, 

From their pride-built power usurpers cast down. 

Show the world that no despot can reign in this land — 
That Freedom disdainfully treads on a crown. 

Death to the tyrant that dare desecrate 

Sweet Liberty's temple, the shrine of the brave — 
The death of a dastard be ever his fate — 

His blood to the sand and his form to the grave! 

Our hearts beat a welcome, beholding them come; 

Proud Tyranny's hosts with scorn we defy; 
For, in death at their front, or with loved ones at home, 

As freemen we'll live, or as freemen we'll die. 



Echoes from the Valley. 49 



Qeav gvien'fr) ^gmetnbev. 



Dear friend, though sorrow's tears have flown 
From thy bright eyes, and thou hast known 
That bitter anguish loving hearts 
Feel, when some honored friend departs; 
Though fortune's smiles have turned to frowns y 
Thy present cares past pleasures drown, 
And clouds life's morn with sorrow's shade, 
Sad shatter of affection made — 
Remember, He who rules above 
Will hear and answer prayers of love. 

Remember that a cloudless sky 

Was never seen by mortal eye — 

Some mist that 's floating on through space,. 

The brilliant sunshine will deface; 

But soon 'tis past, and then returns 

That joy for which all natuie yearns. 

Thus so it is with mortal grief: 

'Tis transient, and ere long relief, 

With its sweet charm, will bring again 

Life's joys that follow in its train; 

And as the bird at coming spring, 

All hearts new blest w T ill happy sing. 



50 Echoes from the Valley. 

The rose-buds oft, by cruel frost, 
Are nipped — their fragrance is not lost — 
Warm, genial sun and soft south wind 
The pinioned petals will unbind, 
Whose beauty captivates the sight, 
And woos our senses with sweet delight. 

Clouds of to-day bring bright to-morrow; 
Life nobler grows through youthful sorrow, 
When consecrated by a tear, 
And hallowed thoughts of those that's dear. 

Let pleasant words thy time beguile; 

Let hope's bright dreams and visions smile 

Away thy troubles and thy cares — ■ 

Thy future tint in colors fair- — - 

Till wrapped in joys that life possess, 

You happy live and living bless. 




Echoes from the Valley. 51 



j. a a _ttwA \Jt -~t. ^- 4-^^, -*' A -*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*-- 1 -- t --^-*--*--*-- 1 --*--*- 

\hj- $rw\^ sr^P^^o gr^p^^r grv\%o 



gjatl thou pJovthu C)£ttr# of ij^jeooro! 

Hail thou worthy heirs of Freedom ! 

That with joyous steps advance, 
In the onward march of progress — - 

Hail to thee, La Bella France! 

All our hearts are fondly thrilling 
With a gladness, when we see 

Such a brave and noble people 
Crowning lovely Liberty. 

Fair Columbia sends thee greeting; 

Ah! she never will forget 
How much she owes in gratitude 

Unto France, and LaFayette. 

By the sacred ties that bind you 
To your honor and your life, 

Crush the scorpion of sedition 
That would sting you into strife. 



52 Echoes from the Valley. 

Gentle Peace must dwell among you, 
And bind you to each other; 

Every Frenchman should be freeman, 
Every Frenchman is your brother. 

Ye are freeman; now, as patriots, 
To your trusts be ever true, 

And your friends will proudly hail thee, 
While the world will honor you. 



©he &pple &v&e& ave ^iootnxn^ 



Now the apple trees are blooming — 

The aroma of their bloom 
Is like loving spirits coming, 

Hallow'd, coming to my room. 

Bringing sweet ambrosial odors, 
That are redolent of spring, 

Charming nature with their fragrance, 
With the sweetness that they bring. 

With aroma so elysian — 

With their power mild but strong, 
Till my soul is wooed to rapture, 

To the rapture of a song. 



Echoes from the Valley. 



Till the birds I do not envy, 
In their happy choral strife, 

For my soul is warmed by gladness, 
To the ecstaeies of life. 

As their odor greets my senses, 
As their beauty charms my sight, 

Comes a feeling — lite 's a blessing, 
And existence is delight. 



Stttlc $UU* 



Down beneath the waving willow, 
Standing by the mossy well, 

In the moonlight soft and mellow, 
There I met my little Nell. 

She 's the brightest and the fairest 
That my eyes did ever scan. 

Gave to me her love, the purest 
That were ere bestown on man. 

Years have passed, and still the willow 
Grows beside the mossy well; 

Falls the moonlight soft and mellow; 
True the love of gentle Nell. 



54 Echoes from the Valley. 

That 's my Mecca, yonder willow, 
Growing by the mossy well. 

When the moonlight's soft and mellow, 
There I lead my loving Nell. 



pother'* i#t£martj^ 



On the gilded dome of memory,. 

In rose-tinted letters wove 
By the touch of pure affection, 

Are the words, "A mother's love.' r 
Ah, no other words are like them, 

And no words so dear can be, 
As the name I love and honor — ■ 

Mother — precious name to me.. 

No, I've not forgotten mother, 

For amid life's joys and cares, 
Linger still in sweet remembrance, 

All her evening hymns and prayers; 
While her kind and gentle counsel, 

And the songs she used to sing, 
Are like dews on blooming flowers, 

Brilliant gems on life's sweet spring.. 



Echoes from the Valley. 55< 

When the present is all dreary. 

As the past my thoughts retrace, 
Softly comes that lovely vision 

Of her bright angelic face. 
By its presence always with me, 

Wheresoever I may rove, 
Comes the power that sustains me, 

In the strength of mother's love. 



&a&\ f&hou g*ome ©txUnt#? 



Hast thou received some talents 
In thy keeping from the Lord ? 

How many hast thou added 
Them, thy duty to record 1 

Remember, buried talents 
. Bring no profit to the Lord ; 
But censure's condemnation 
To the steward when returned. 

Let not that be thy sentence, 
When the Master comes again : 
"Depart! unworthy servant, 
I'll no longer you retain." 



56 Echoes from the Valley. 



This be thy welcome plaudit: 
" For thy vigilance displayed, 
Since thou o'er few are watchful, 
Thou o'er much art ruler made." 



I like upon a pleasant day, 
All business cares to flout, 

To hasten from the town away, 
And fly the streams for trout. 

I like to see the sunlit wave 

Of water swiftly flowing, 
O'er pebbly shallows, brightly lave 

The grassy banks, and showing 

A whirling eddy, well defined 
To view, — beyond all doubt 

A pool where you are sure to find 
The gameful speckled trout. 

Yes, of all the sports that are so fine, 
There's none but what I'd scout, 

To take my rod and hook and line, 
And fly a stream for trout. 



Echoes from the Valley. 57 




giohn tyaxxl ^^n?^ 



Wreathe a chaplet to the mem'ry 

Of a warrior of the wave, 
Who, dauntless and intrepid, 

Won a peace among the brave. 

He roamed the trackless ocean, 
Like a tavored Neptune lord. 

His truest friends the compass 
And his own good trusty sword. 

He espoused the cause of freedom — 
He, and all his valiant men, 

When the war-clouds hung the darkest,, 
Scourged the Lion in his den. 

For he revelled in the battle, 
And amidst the cannon's roar 

He raised the shout of victory 

That was heard from shore to shore. 



58 Echoes from ttte Valley. 

He 'd a heart to dare and conquer, 
And his feats fore'er enthrones 

In the hearts of grateful people, 
The name of John Paul Jones. 

Then a chaplet for this hero, 
As a tribute to the name 

Of this one, so brave and gallant, 
And so worthy of his fame. 



^$ithevl |Jj?#, thi?# nrtil pHthtftr, 



Wither! yes, they will wither; 

It is so with all delight, 
If gathered in the morning, 

They will perish ere the night. 

But, then, I think for mortals 
It 's by far the better plan, 

To gather passing pleasures 

And enjoy them when they can. 

Though flowers soon are wilted, 
I am sure that you will find 

That they have left, while wilting, 
Some fragrance still behind. 



Echoes from the Valley. 59 



'Tis so of joys that over 
From memory still we win, 

Some sweet and pure reflection 
Of the pleasures that have been. 



t^ape, t&xvect gtalctcc, 



Hope, sweet solace for all sorrow, 
Drives onr grim despair away; 

Brightly gilding dawn of 'morrow, 
Rosy sunset gives to-day. 

Pouring forth its joyous gladness, 
For our weary, troubled son], 

Tempering every thought of sadness 
That our being would control. 

Why should person ever worry 
Over troubles ere they come? 

Many pleasures thus they bury, 
In foreboding's dreary gloom. 

Then away with all forborling, 
Give to mirth the rein awhile; 

Stop your spirit from corroding, 

Light your face with cheerful smile. 



60 Echoes from the Valley. 



®h£tr£ '& a $le&&in& in nxn gj£t**rt* 



There 's a blessing in my heart, 

For thee, love. 

Wherever I may go, 

A mystic charm where thou art, 

For me, love, 

The world can never know. 

As the days glide swiftly by, 
My first love, 
On time's remorseless stream, 
I can not repress a sigh, 
My own love, 
For a broken, fading dream. 

And I only wish that you, 
Loved love, 
When future years shall come, 
Will believe my love was true, 
My lost love, 
And think of me when gone. 



Echoes from the Valley. 



61 



)g[jglg|gl^ 



gavstv&ll. 



Farewell, but whenever you welcome the hour 
Of sunset returning, with clouds all aglow. 

Remember through life there 's mystical power 
That still hinds me to you wherever- 1 go. 

Forget thee? indeed, I never can do so — 
Stilled by my pulse ere I ever should try; 

Forget thy bright smiles — thy kind words? — ah no; 
I '11 cherish and love them through life till 1 die. 

The harp that is touched by fingers of skill, 

Pours forth its rich volume till each bosom thrills 

With its measure; yet sever a chord, just break one. 
The rest may be sounded, but harmony ? s gone. 

So with the life that would eagerly till 

The noblest honors to which mortals aspire. 

The moment you crush its ambition you will 
Leave a sad wreck; though I always do admire 



62 Echoes from the Valley. 

The grandeur of nature, and beauty of art; 

Am wooed to delight by music's sweet strains; 
A chord in my being is broken, my heart 

Can never respond to affection again. 

I know that in life there are duties as many 
As lights in the welkin of glittering stars; 

They jeer at wounds only, if there are any 
Who out of the conflict carry no scars. 

O'er our meetings together fond fancy will brood, 
And their niemorres sweet all my future shall cast, 

For the words that you spoke, like songs of childhood, 
Are echoing still amid the thoughts of the past. 

Vain are the efforts to suppress but a sigh, 

For up from the depths of the fountain will spring 

The dews of affection that moistens the eye, 

When I think of the past and what might have been. 

Then, farewell ! when ever you welcome the hour 
Of sunset returning with clouds all aglow, 

Remember, through life there 's a mystical power 
That still binds me to you wherever I go. 



& 



^^t^f^^ 



Echoes from the Valley. 63 




(Dh, ^ovtrattr, thou Sevens: anb tyxxae* 

Sorrow, thou serene and pure, 

Strange beauty in all lives you make; 

Thy shades are weird as those we see 
By moonlight on the troubled lake. 

The moon but loans a borrowed light, 

It can not give a light its own; 
So charms of sorrow are at best 

Reflected from those joys that 's gone. 

And as the wave on troubled lake, 
With shadows rise and fall away, 

Moonshone until they brightly flow 
Beneath the flaming orb of day. 

Thus mortals all from pleasures past 

Draw back bright thoughts of coming bliss, 

That light their dreams of future life, 
When tyrant Death has ended this. 



04 ICt HOES FROM THE V ALLEY. 



Glorious Hope, man's richest gift, 
Gilds the future we inherit. 

Earth to earth," that solemn mandate, 
Was not written of the spirit, 



Dear little flower that early blooms 
Beside the southward wall, 

Delightful messenger, vou come 
To cheer and bless us all. 

Most gladsome welcome do I give, 
Thou favored flower of song; 

Sweet hope, and innocence, long live 
To triumph over wrong. 

'T was gentle hands that planted thee- 

Alas! she is not here 
Thy blooming beauty now to see, 

And smiling, feel thy cheer. 

But still bloom on, and ever be 

Thy sentiments so sweet. 
Diffused to all that chance to see 

Thee by the busy street. 



Echoes from the Valley. 65 



I thank the one that planted thee 

Beside the southward wall; 
Thy presence there does unto me 

Her goodness now recall. 

If all of us would kindly strow 

Along the path of life, 
Some deed or flowers that will grow 

To calm "and soothe its strife, 

How happier, far, would be mankind, 

For such a service done; 
Our names with fragrance it would bind 

To them when we are gone. 

Then brightly bloom, sweet little flower, 
Your presence here does cheer 

Our hearts with truth's majestic power — 
I am glad to see you here. 






GG 



E< HOES I ROM I HE V ALLEY. 



. 



^SIM 



gill the |jTrtftc» nuth 43ccmtifitl £ m lotvev»* 



Fill the vases with beautiful flowers. 

The brightest and loveliest to thee; 
When wooed by their odor and powers, 

Let them be a remembrance of me. 

So silent and so freely they give 

To the world all their wealth of perfume, 
That their fragrance continues to live 

When withered and faded their bloom. 



It is thus with a true loving heart, 
Though unseen, still its power is felt, 

And death only the idol will part 

From the temple where once it has dwelt. 

Then fill up the vases with flowers 
That are fragrant and pleasing to see, 

When their joy lends wings to the hour, 
Let there be a remembrance of me. 



Echoes from the Valley. 67 



©£U me not that £ov*e i& &xanm$n\< 

Tell me not that love is transient, 
That it wings a hasty flight, 

Only touching for a moment 

Life with fond and sweet delight. 

Fancy 't is that 's evanescent, 
Tinting with its magic powers, 

All the present and the future 
Of these varied lives of ours. 

Love is fervent, love is constant, 
Love 's the same in every heart. 

Joy will brighten, sorrow cloud it, 
But love never will depart. 




68 



E( HOES I ROM THE V ALLE1 , 




'© t# g»nn?ct tc* b* Itcmembcvefr, 



'T is sweet to be remembered 
By those we've learned to love; 

To feel their thoughts are with us 
Wherever we may rove. 

To know that we, as mortals, 

Ethereal bliss may share; 
Indulge in dreams of pleasure, 

'Mid a life of busy care. 

To think that when they 're kneeling, 
With hearts employed in prayer, 

In kindness we 're remembered, 
And our name is mentioned there. 



^^£&&r^ 



Echoes from the Valley. 69 



®h& Tftnve in $&avt. 



When Vice her tawdry colors flaunt, 
Sweet Yirtue hides her face; 

She will not brook the idle taunt 
That follows vain disgrace. 

Dear lovely girl, life's noble part 
Is found the path you trod, 

For Jesus saith, the pure in heart 
Shall see and reign with God. 



^hn to %hz $uvie& tya&t Complain? 



Why to the buried past complain? 

With it let all regrets be buried. 
I would not live it o'er again, 

For I am to the present married. 

I love the present, for from out 
Her ever active, fruitful womb 

Is born strong hope that kills the doubt 
Who would like thieving robber come. 

To steal from us our wealth of joy, 
And leave us but the garb of gloom, 



70 Echoes from the Valley. 



The bliss of love with blight destroy, 
Make trusting hearts a living: tomb. 

Past, doubt, all gone! I 'm glad 't is said, 
IS T o tears for them will I be giving. 

All past and doubt leave with the dead — 
Hope and the present to the living. 



xlcav x& the (Thought, 



Dear the thought that when we part, 
A blessing springs up from the heart; 
And memory fondly holds in store 
Our kindly parting at the door. 

Bright is the dream, that while we live 
Thy lovely face will smiling give 
A pathos to the hopes that dwell 
Delighted in that word, farewell. 

What other friend, to thee so true? 
Can be so dear to me as you? 
Although our parting gives us pain, 
Its balm is this, we '11 meet again. 



Echoes from the Valley. 71 




Qxfz ka& mamj iMttj* anh tylea&nve&< 



Life has many joys and pleasures, 
And as 'long its path we move, 

If we 'd glean its richest treasures, m 
We must learn to live and love. 

What a sad and mournful journey 
For the hearts that never give 

From their garnered wealth of feeling, 
Joy to those that 'round them live. 

Brightest sunshine will some shadows 
Cross our pathway often fall ; 

But their gloom is only transient — 
Hope and love were made for all. 



^^a^*^ 



72 Echoes from the Valley. 



g>cmm gencath the Hfbtaplc ©routing* 



Down beneath the maple growing, 
Close beside the limpid stream, 

Listening to the water flowing, 
I would loiter, I would dream. 

Dream of dark eyes calmly flashing 
With the flame of amorous fire — 

All the world's ambition dashing 
Into naught with fond desire. 

Rainbow-tinted hopes of future, 
Bright and fair they promise seem; 

High resolve the bosom nurture 
In the bliss of love's sweet dream, 

Pleasant breeze is softly blowing — 
From the spot my soul would rove, 

Through the realms of fancy going, 
Filled with music of thy love. 

There 's one sure lesson life is giving, 
And sad experience will prove 

They exist, but are not living, 
Who are destitute of love. 



Echoes from the Valley, 73 




Jimagtfne* 



Imogene! Imogene! 

Oh thou my beautiful Imogene, 
I can not work, I can not play, 
My thoughts forever drift away 

To thee, my beautiful Imogene. 

Imogene! Imogene! 

My sweet and amiable Imogene; 
I can not laugh, I can not sing, 
But faintest sounds will echoes bring 

Of happy hours with thee, Imogene. 

Imogene! Imogene! 

My pure and loving Imogene — 

Go where thou wilt, where ere thou art, 
A constant courtier goes my heart 

Contented with thee, loved Imogene. 



74 Echoes from the Valley. 



^rtil, |pta#crnry, 



Hail, Masonry, whose blessed light 
Illumes the shores of time, 

Diffusing, by thy mystic might, 
Thy virtues so sublime. 

Thy sacred power 's ever felt 
By those whose feet have trod 

Thy path of peace, and humbly knelt 
With confidence in God. 

O, glorious Light, forever shine, 

And let thy rays impart 
Thy virtues, noble and divine, 

In every brother's heart. 




Echoes from the Valley. 



75 



IHfl^ftEfT^lC^ftM] piE[] tMl tM]]^[I^[I^ItEll^ItMl tM] tMJ T^I lSn 



pthim £ife anfr &t& g)tttte# ave ®vev. 



When life and its duties are over, 
Will kind friends lovingly come 

To water the flowers that cover, 
And fragrant render my tomb? 

Will lips that now smile at raj coming, 
And eyes that sparkle with joy, 

G-ive a tear, a prayer for the missing, 
A sigh for one moment employ? 

Will the dawn of eternity's morning 
Bring eternity's joys for me? 

Shall I with the ransomed millions, 
The face of my Savior see? 




76 Echoes from the Valley. 



^[Mftt!^ 



g. ®0lb Hon that £ govs* tyovt. 



I told you that I loved you; 

Ah, those words were but the knell 
Of the passion wildly ringing 

In my bosom when they fell. 

As a bell that joyous chiming 
In the coming of the year, 

By the frigid air is broken, 

When its notes are loud and clear — 

So my soul was all a passion, 

Thrilling love my heart did swell; 

But your cold disdain has froze it, 
And those words were but the knell. 




Echoes from the Valley. 77 



gtilent *&Uepxn$. 



Silent sleeping 'neath the weeping 
Summer twilight's pitying tears, 

Waiting coming Judgment morning, 
Lie those Christian pioneers. 

Every hour's magic powers 

Gives sweet beauty to their name; 

Grateful wreathing in, and breathing 
Out, their death in honored fame. 

Every ringing, bell is singing, 
Softly on each Sabbath morn; 

Ever telling as it 's swelling 
Notes are on the breezes borne. 

How, from ocean unto ocean, 
Hearts in sympathy will swell ! 

When related is the fated 

Story how the Whitmans fell. 

How the gleaming knife was streaming 
With its crimson tide of woe; 

Vain appealing, but revealing 
Nature of the vip'rous foe ! 



78 Echoes from the Valley. 

Maiden, breaking hearted, makiDg 

Supplication for relief, 
Ere the morrow learns more sorrow, 
Heavier burthen makes her grief. 

As the burning flames were turning 

All to desolation there, 
Fiercely fell the savage yelling, 

On the sighing autumn air. 

How receiving, swift reprieving 

In the sacramental rite; 
Heaven's meed for — fiendish deed, sir- 

With the martyrs still in sight. 

Winds are sighing with the dying, 
Poppies that in solace wave, 

To the clover spreading cover 

O'er the Christian martyrs' grave. 

Morning sunshine fondly kiss them, 
Lima's softest rays are shed, 

While the weeping stars of midnight 
Scatter tears o'er martyr'd dead. 

Waiilatpu's mournful waters, 
Constant tell their tale of woe, 



Echoes from the Valley. 79 



To the morning and the evening — 
Unto all that come and go. 

In that sad and mournful valley, 
In that valley of the plain; 

In the land of Walla Walla, 

Where those pioneers were slain. 



©jell f|ji# gttory fright with ©ttty* 



Tell the story bright with duty — 

Loyal sire to loyal scion, 
How, npon the field of carnage, 

Fell the brave Nathaniel Lyon ; 

How he cheered his gallant comrades 

As he led Columbia's band, 
When they shouted for a leader 

That would come and take command;. 

How he fell enshrined in honor 
As his loyal heart and hand — 

Wrote his name with dazzling valor 
In the hist'ry of our land; 



80 Echoes from the Valley. 

How the nation wept in sorrow 

When the mournful tidingB spread- 
That our heroes were defeated 
That the noble Lyon 's dead. 

Tell his story, bright with duty — 
Loyal sire to loyal scion, 

How in honor and with valor 
Fell the brave Nathaniel Lyon. 



&pavklin$ (&#e&< 



Sparkling eyes and loving hearts, 
Scorn and spurn coquettish arts; 
They only know one ultima thule, 
And that 's the glorious golden rule. 

Cynics, chatter, if you will, 
You may wound, you do not kill. 
Fling your idle, selfish taunts — 
What man seeks and what man wants 

Are sparkling eyes and loving hearts, 
That scorn and spurn coquettish arts; 
That only know one ultima thule, 
And that 's the glorious golden rule. 



Echoes from the Valley. 81 

jinking of th£ (&nnxbevlan?>. 

Shot and shell were thickly hailing 
On the monster unavailing, 
For her heavy iron armor 
Cast them lightly to the bay. 
On she sped, and fiercely n earing 
To her object, nothing fearing, 

Knowing broadside could not harm her, 
Eager for her helpless prey. 

How the treason demon gloated! 
While her victim waiting floated 
There on Hampton's flowing tide 
With our banner floating aft; 
As in fiendish fury rushing, 
With her beak and guns all crushing 
Through the heavy wooden fo reside 
Of that gallant sailing craft. 

Every officer and member 

Of that crew, and every timber 

In that good ship, all reel'd beneath 
That tremendous, fatal blow, 
When the demon's prow came crashing 
Through her starboard, and the splashing, 



82 Echoes from the Valley. 

Servile water so foul, bequeath 

Deatli and fame to gallant foe. 

Every instant deatli came frowning — 
Death by cannon, deatli by drowning, 
Still with spirits true to duty, 
They like heroes at their place, 
Treason's storm were firmly braving, 
Feeling that they were but saving 
By their actions, resolutely, 
Loyal honor from disgrace. 

With our banner proudly living 
O'er the brave so nobly dying, 
O'er heroic dead fast going 

To their rest beneath the waves — 
But their guns in thunder swelling, 
To Columbia's sons were telling 

Loud their parting cheers, and throwing 
Scorn at traitors from their graves. 

In the sunset brightly gleaming, 
There our banner still was streaming 
O'er its brave defenders, sleeping 
In the depths of Hampton's bay. 



Echoes from the Valley. 83 

Floated there in view of heaven, 
Floated there oblation given 

Freemen for their sacred keeping, 
While sweet Liberty holds sway. 

Given by that crew and vessel, 
In their brave and fateful wrestle- 
In that contest bright with glory, 
For that gallant little band. 
Grateful are their memories cherished 
Of those men that nobly perished — 
Sung in song and told in story. 
They who sank with Cumberland. 




84 



Echoes from the Valley. 



Qa&Vf &o £axv. 

Lady so fair, with auburn hair, 
And eyes so sparkling bright, 

How quick you see that such as me. 
Do fall in love at sight. 

Oh, for a whirl, fair lovely girl, 
In the mazy dance with you! 

Our hearts should beat the time, our feet 
Would keep the changes through. 

The happy thought, if but my lot. 
To dwell through life with thee; 

But then I fear, my sweetest dear. 
That such can never be. 




Echoes from the Valley. 85 

A song for our jolly sailors, 

Our hardy, manly tars, 
That roam o'er the foaming billows, 

Beneath the stripes and stars. 

Who, with all their faults and habits, 

Have a nature true and kind, 
And while cruising o'er the ocean, 

Love the friends they left behind. 

Then hurrah for all our sailors ! 

No matter where they are, 
That 's ever ready for duty, 

And are always brave in war. 

Never will their pride forsake them, 

Never will their courage tail, 
Till the calm of death o'er take them, 

And they cease the seas to sail. 

Long life to our hardy sailors, 

Heroes of our peace and wars, 
That are sailing 'neath our banner — 

'Neath the glorious stripes and stars. 



86 



Echoes from the Valley. 



\ .• •, ., 



^r y^ ^p- ^jp ^^ ^p ^jp ^Jp- ^p ^p 



i^joptf* 



Through roseate dawn 

Of hope comes on 
The bright golden dreams of bliss. 

Us mortals to bless 

With its happiness. 
In a world of care like this. 

Dear Hope, without thee 

No person could see 
One moment of fond content; 

All lives are made bright 

By the transcendent light 
Of joys thy presence has lent. 

A treasure so precious, 
Resplendent and gracious, 

Is pleasures that with thee do come 
Sad beings to cheer, 
Dispelling their drear 

Dismal forebodings of gloom. 



Echoes from the Valley. 87 

Sweet Hope, never fail 

With bliss to regale, 
As we feel the chastening rod; 

Your mission ne'er cease 

Until resting in peace, 
We rejoice in the presence of God. 



x& gtot IfoiUj* 



'T is not lolly to be jolly 

As we 're toiling on through lite, 
As we rustle 'mid its bustle — 

'Mid the cares with which 't is rife. 

Odd 's the matter if we chatter 
As we cheerful toil along; 

Woods are ringing with the singing 
Of the wild bird's summer song. 

Oft, indeed, there must be need 
Of sorrow for our fellow man; 

But 't is not folly to be jolly 
In this life when e'er we can. 



Echoks ikom the Valley. 
(To ©tUamook Sight tumae. 

Like a sentry grim and brave, 
Firm and true at duty's post. 

Beating back assaulting wave, 
Tillamook now guards our coast. 

Weary sailors shall not look 

Yainly through the clouds of night. 
For thy gleaming Tillamook — 

For thy welcome rays of light. 

Winds have rav'd, stormed around thee. 
Wave assailed in fury's shock, 

Their assaults have only found thee 
Firm established on a rock. 

Flash thy signals o'er the deep. 

Bright and cheerful far away. 
Wandering seamen help to keep 

Heart and course to friendly bay. 

A sailor I — on tide of time 
Passion's storms my spirit toss, 

Near the danger line of crime, 
But my light is from the cross. 



Echoes from the Valley. 



89 




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Let one word in kindness spoken, 
For all faults make full atone ; 

Give, oil give, the blissful token — 
You '11 feel nobler when its done. 

Life has many strifes and trials — 

Pleasures few that cheer the heart- 
Keen regrets and self denials, 
Form of it the greater part. 

As the sunshine after shower, 
Makes all nature to rejoice, 

Let me feel the happy power 
Of thy gentle, winsome voice. 




90 Echoes from the Valley. 



While a smile and a welcome is waiting for me, 
I will come with gladness, my loved one, to thee ; 
For the world has no pleasure to me half so dear, 
As the joy of contentment when ever you 're near. 

The world in delights a few pleasures may give, 
A moment to woo, and for a moment to live ; 
But the heart still unsated, turns sighing away, 
From the fostering ot hopes that quickly decay. 

To the blessings of love that forever in^arts 
Its prestige so sweet o'er affectionate hearts 
Till life and its duties are wreathed in its charms, 
And the bliss of the present, dread future disarms. 

Then, while a smile and a welcome is waiting for me, 
I will come with gladness my loved one, to thee, 
For the world has no pleasures to me half so dear 
As the joy of contentment whenever you 're near. 




Echoes from the Valley. 91 




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With the sunbeams of the morning, 
Comes a vision bright and clear, 

Of a pure and lovely maiden, 

Whom my thoughts hold very dear. 

Dear to me her every action, 
Deep imbedded in my heart 

Lies her image's sweet refraction, 
Of life's true and noble part. 

With the twilight of the evening, 
That bright vision haunts me still; 

For this pure and lovely maiden 
All my life with pleasures fill. 




92 Echoes from the Valley. 



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Far away from the distant shore 
Of Columbia's restless wave, 

To find 'mid the cannon's loud war, 
The soldier's glory or grave. 

Into the storm of the conflict, 
Into the heat of the fight, 

Still forward and upward, always 
To the victor's brilliant height. 

Out of obscurity's shadow, 
Into the sunlight of fame, 

Filling the world with an echo 
That 's answering back his name. 

Hurrah, for this dauntless hero, 
Hurrah, for this valiant man, 

The traitor's stern intrepid foe, 
Hurrah, for Phil. Sheridan. 



Echoes from the Valley 



93 




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The sun is set and the evening sky 

Is bedecked with a rich, gorgeous cloud, 

Of every color discerned by the eye 
In the rainbow's beautiful shroud. 

Oh, tell me not of Italy's clime, 
Where all the artists delight to go 

To roam 'mid ruins of ancient times, 
And to dream in the sunset's soft glow. 

But tell of the west, the wild far west, 
Where the toiling millions may come, 

Where the sun, as he sinks in glory to rest, 
Will cast his last smiles on our home. 




94 



Echoes from the Valley. 







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Lovely Minnie, few, if any. 

That like thee completely charm; 
Such artful smiles and maiden wiles, 

Fascinate but never harm. 

It is such delight unto my sight 
To watch yon with your beauing; 

Oh, yes, indeed, some hearts may bleed — 
You neither care or knowing. 

Thy life's first joys of dress and boys, 
Be your pleasures while they may; 

Then next a man — yes, that 's the plan, 
Notwithstanding what you say. 







Echoes from the Valley. 95 



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Our lives are not all sunshine, 
Dark clouds will oft appear, 

Whose shades of doubts and sorrows 
Unite with pleasures here. 

But life has grand ambition — 
Some noble schemes sublime — 

By which we may emblazon 
Names on the scroll of time. 

Life is evil, life is good, 

Life 's just what e'er you make it ;- 
If a blessing or a curse, 

Depends on how you take it. 

Life 's a ceaseless conflict 
Where triumph and defeat 

Blend joy with disappointment — 
Mix the bitter with the sweet. 

They are the nobler heroes 
Who their duty noblest bear, 

If caring for the fallen, 

Or the action bravely share. 



96 Echoes from the Valley. 



Their names may not be echoed 
By heralds of renown; 

But efforts will gain plaudits 
By virtue they have shown. 

Shall we he living heroes 
And battle for the right — 

The standards, truth and honor, 
Uphold in every fight ? 

Or shall we idly clamor 

While others victories win — 

By negligence encourage 
The thoughtless host of sin? 

We must not shrink from duty 
But rouse the inert will — 

The world must be the better 
For the mission we fulfill. 




Echoes from the Valley. 



97 




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The wind is lightly blowing 
Soft over the summer lea, 

And glad is my heart with knowing 
That Jennie is loving me. 

The birds are gaily singing 
In the blooming apple tree, 

My soul with their joy is ringing 
That Jennie is loving me. 

The clouds are floating brighter 

Up in the heaven I see, 
While cares of life are lighter 

Since Jennie is loving me. 



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98 Echoes from the Valley. 

' Mi l lMiMi l llMieiiMiMMMMiBlHiil l 
Lincoln* 



Fold the martyr's garb around him, 
Lay him on that woeful bier ; 

Though for years the nation's sorrow'd, 
It has yet for him a tear. 

Take that hand that warmly grasped us, 
Lay it on his peaceful breast, 

O'er the heart that beat so kindly — - 
Silent now in ceaseless rest. 

Close those eyes that were so soulful — 

Stilled forever is his voice, 
That was wont with kindly greeting 

Make all 'round him to rejoice. 

How our spirits thrilled with rapture 
When those noble words did fall : 
" Without malice unto any, 
nt with charity to all." 

What a smile of grateful gladness 
Lighted up their happy face, 



Echoes from the Valley. 99 



As he lifted into manhood, 
Sons of Afric's sable race. 

How the peoples' hearts beat echo 

To that declaration brave, 
My oath is placed in heaven 

That our country I will save." 

From his humble walks in childhood, 
He brought an honored name, 

That goes with our Nation's triumph 
From the White House into fame. 

Bring that flag that floats so proudly 
Over Sumter's battered wall, 

Drape it with the crape of mourning, 
Let it be his burial pall. 

Make his pageantry majestic, 

He was a man of peace — not war — 

And in this last journey homeward 
Make his hearse triumphal car. 

Make his journey sweet with flowers 
Let their beauty and perfume — 

Be in aromatic incense, 

Nature's welcome to the tomb. 



100 Echoes from the Valley, 



Rich and poor will sadly follow 
As you bear him to his rest ; 

In the sacrifice for freedom 
Lincoln was the last and best. 



fliinfc £vien1>&hip'& SPovfr** 



Kind friendship's words and smiles so bright 

Like sunbeams on a river, 
Reflected are in fond delight 

From object to the giver. 

The human heart like water pure, 
Reflects what's thrown upon it — 

In faithfulness it will endure — 
Be true to those that won it. 

The past is sweet, its memories dear 
Are golden chords that bind us, 

For naught so please us mortals here 
As smiles and words of kindness. 






Echoes from the Valley. 101 



1 . — __ — : L— .- 



&n %$lentcn;\$ *&xxtzet. 



In memory sweet, forever near, 
The form and voice to me so dear; 
For death alone can ere erase 
Remembrance of thy lovely face. 

Thy friendly gen'rous grasp imparts 
Its genial warmth to trusting hearts ; 
While every kindly word that 's given, 
As echoes, seem direct from heaven. 

Then, whensoe're again we meet, 

Still be our thoughts and words as sweet 

As subtle essence nature throws 

In fragrance from the blooming rose. 




102 



Echoes from the Valley. 






QBtttfvxj I^itij HP ill *3ving f&onxc pitty, 



Every day will bring some duty 
Worthy of your best attention; 

Every day will bring some pleasure 
That will soothe away contention. 

Do thy labor so that others 

May thy bounteous goodness share ; 
Let the w T ork you leave behind you, 

To others show that you 've been there. 

Others labored here before you, 

And others will when you are gone ; 

Others labor now beside you — 
Will you be the idle one ? 

Do not put off till the morrow 
That which you should do to-day. 

Trifles gathered form the mountain — 
What will you gain by such delay ? 



Echoes from the Valley. 103 

gome, *£u*££t iDoroe* 

Home, sweet home," the passioned poet sang, 
Till the world with his tender chorus rang 

To the time of happy hearts; 
For the dearest spot of all this earth 
Is the sacred place — the family hearth — 

Its sweet charm never departs. 

Search the world o'er, and find you will not, 
A spot so loved, be it a palace or cot, 

As your own habitation; 
It warms the heart and chastens the mind, 
And its memories pure are the ties that bind 

Our destiny as a nation. 

Then sing me a song — that precious song — 
To my heart its echoes, so soft and long, 

A charming melody come; 
"Where ever I roam my heart is light, 
My spirit gay, my eyes grow bright 

With thoughts and songs of home. 



104 



Echoes from the Valley, 









(Dnv &vuaxxt (Sije#* 



Our truant eyes will oft surprise 
Ourselves as well as others ; 

No social art can cheat the heart — 
Affection never smothers. 

Your eyes that night were my delight, 
I saw them smile while passing ; 

Although I heard not any word. 
My mind was quick at guessing. 

No doubt mine, too, were unto you. 
Some silent thoughts enfolding ; 

For well I know that they will show 
When they are you beholding. 



Echoes from the Valley. 



105 



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Still fair, though faded is the face, 
That once was so very lovely; 

And I can still delighted trace 
A charm that 's oft allured me. 

Though time lias you of youth bereft 
Of all its gay and playful art ; 

I find that he with you has left, 
Your gentle and your loving heart. 

'T is such a pleasant thought for me, 
While other joys so swift depart, 

To find upon our meeting, we 

Have each retained our youthful heart. 



106 



Echoes fkom the Valley, 



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Oh, touch the lyre of memory. 
Smoothly let its music flow, 

In sweetly measured melody, 
O'er the days of long ago. 

'T will wake the slumbering echoes 
That lie silent in the past, 

Like soft bugle calls of pleasure, 
Pealing forth a welcome blast. 

All the past is full of music, 

With its soothing charming strain— 

My heart in trilling symphonies 
Would live it over again. 



Echoes from the Valley. 



107 



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Go labor in my vineyard, 

And at the close of day, 
Whatever then is due thee, 

I to you will cheerful pay." 

A parable thus spake He, 

In Judea's favored clime, 
That bears with it a lesson 

To be learned throughout all time. 

The world 's a moral vineyard, 
Where all willing ones can find 

Some labor for them waiting, 
That will benefit mankind. 



There 's work for willing spirits, 
There ? s work for active hand; 

And those that wish to labor 
Need no longer idle stand. 



108 Echoes from the Valley. 



Go delve, unworthy passion, 

Id all Nature's buried deep; 
Evil thoughts and deeds from sprouting, 
By your careful culture keep. 

There 's tender vines just starting, 
And they need a trainer's aid 

To grasp supporting honors, 

Ere neglect their course degrade. 

Some withered leaves and branches, 
Must be dipt and borne away; 

Like vanished hopes and pleasures, 
They were born to soon decay. 

To some steady, strong support, 

Safe and most securely bind 
Back again each fruitful vine 

That strays bending in the wind. 

Faithful thou thy labor do — 
Have no fears of thy reward — 

Humbly having clone thy duty, 
Leave the vintage to the Lord. 



Echoes from the Valley. 



pttj jptothev'* Wvave. 



My mother's grave — most sacred spot 

Of all this earth to me — 
Where'er I am, whate'er my lot, 

'T will still remembered be. 



109 




That humble tomb upon the hill, 
Which slopes toward the west, 

With sacred memories ever till 
My weary troubled breast. 

]STo heart like hers has ever beat 
In sympathy with mine; 

No words like hers has ever greet 
With thoughts that so refine. 

And though from it afar I roam, 
My wanderings only prove 

That buried in a silent tomb 
Lies all I 've known of love. 



110 



Echoes prom the Valley. 



gticamiua lly the *H*i#ht fgblUUtmctic. 



Steaming up the bright Willamette, 
In the happy month of May, 

When the verdant hills and mountains 
Form a picture bright and gay. 

With a vista fair before u>. 

As we swiftly onward go, 
While a stream of foam and bubbles 

Far behind us glinting flow. 



Brightly tinted as the fancy 



Of a summer evening's dream. 
gntly float those airy bubbles, 

On the bosom of the stream. 



Like our richly painted fancies, 
Or the pleasures we have won. 

They are brilliant for a moment, 
Then forever after gone. 

Still 't is pleasant to be dreaming- 
It is pleasant as we glide 

Swiftly on the passing moments. 
To leave bubbles on the tide. 



Echoes from the Valley. 



Ill 




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Away, away, o'er the heaving bay, 
Where the billows loudly roar, 

We drift at night by calm starlight, 
Far out from the sleepy shore. 

We love the swell of the waves that tell, 
With the chorus of the wind, 

Where the roving fish — the spoils we wish- 
In the largest schools we h'nd. 

We cast regrets off with our nets, 

And we joke our time away, 
Till uhe morning light dispels the night, 

And we hail the coming dav. 




112 Echoes from the Valley. 



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When the royal king of morning, 

Westward going on his journey, 

Calling all the passing moments 

To attend and follow after, 

Floats in most resplendent manner, 

O'er the west his regal banner. 

Bright with crimson, gold and purple. 

Till its colors, rich reflected, 

Back are from thy snowy whiteness 

And the drifting clouds above thee, 

Till a halo, so effulgent, 

In such splendor shone before me, 

That I looked, admired, and wondered. 

At its colors change and blending, 

Wreathing, twisting, falling, swaying. 

In their soft and mellow richness; 

Then, anon, in vivid brightness, 

Till thy snow appeared as blazing, 

Like an incense-burning altar, 

With its sacred flames ascending 

As the evening's holy offering 

To the over-ruling spirit 

For the goodness of His giving; 



Echoes fisom the Valley. 113 

And in majesty displaying 
Such a gorgeous matchless picture, 
Showing the unspoken glory 
Of the ever-living God. 

As I gazed, beheld enraptured — 
For my vision seemed as drinking 
In that feeling so ethereal, 
Which intoxicates all beings 
With its strange and lovely presence, 
Charming with its fascination 
All the faculties of action 
Into quiet, mild submission — 
Then I thought I heard a whisper, 
And methinks I still can hear it, 
Low and softly, gently saying: 
" That if day to day proclaim eth, 
Night to night fresh knowledge showeth, 
Surely sunset on the mountain 
Is by far the sweetest poem 
That is found through out all nature." 




114 Echoes from the Valley 



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Oh, the beauty and the grandeur 
Of the mountain in its brightness, 

Of St. Helens there before us, 

Clad in robe of snowy whiteness ! 



Yainly will the eye endeavor, . 

On her features now to trace 
Marks of awful fiery passion, 

That once lit her glowing face. 

There she reigns in queenly beauty — 
Princess of the land and sky — 

Neptune sends his jeweled tribute, 
As his carrier clouds go by. 

Flashing streams with joyous boundings, 

In their journey to the sea, 
Spread her blessings all around them, 

Through the woodland, o'er the lea. 

Frondent forest 'round her waving, 
Proud their banners in the air, 

Flout and scorn our social bondage, 
Wedded to our lives of care. 



Echoes from the Valley. 115 

Sylvan echoes gladly answer 

Song and shout with happy voices, 

Till the mountain and the valley 
With their chorus sweet rejoices. 

Stars enamored gaze upon her, 

Winds about her tune their songs; 

All that woos the thoughts of fancy, 
There in glad profusion throngs. 

Morn's enchantments hasten to her, 

When aurora tints the skies; 
Evening's charms all gather 'round her, 

When the day in glory dies. 

Mortals cast enraptured vision, 

Bearing admiration's due, 
And receive returning pleasure, 

As her loveliness they view. 

Matchless there in queenly beauty, 

Captivating all our eyes, 
Stands the loveliest of our mountains, 

Princess of the land and skies. 



118 Echoes prow the Valley. 



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JJoomco to a 5Un of the ip<*mucfr< 



Her honor gone 

From trusting breast, 
Forever flown 

Is pride's sweet rest 
With all its blessings. 

What can she have 
That 's worth possessing — 

Hope and the grave? 
Closed every door 

Of friends once dear, 
To never more 

Open for her! 
Out in the street, 

Shunned and shamed. 
Death to meet 

In a den of the damned. 

On, on she goes! 

With famished glance 












Echoes from the Valley. 117 

Of love, to foes 

In mazy dance, 
Hoping to win, 

As moments flee, 
In courts of sin, 

A dream of Lethe. 
No hands uphold 

Those who have fell, 
As their feet take hold 

On the steps of hell. 
By misery's cup 

Continually drammed. 
Till hope yields up 

In the den of the damned. 

When hope is gone 

There' s no retreat — 
Her course is down 

Till her erring feet 
Enters the room 

Where bacchanal song 
Her certain doom 

But urges along; 
For lecherous men, 

To pity unknown, 



118 



Echoes from the Valley. 



In libidinous den 

A victim 's won; 
Each coining morrow 

Of guilt and crime 
Brings but sorrow, 

Till merciful time, 
That silent waits, 

Amid fetid breath, 
Gives worst of fates — 

A friendless death — 
There in a den of the damned. 




Echoes from the Valley. 



119 




*l*0n0 of the Hjmfcoo (&ivl 



Oh, safely float, 

My little boat, 
O'er broad Ganges' rolling tide, 

As omen I 

Shall never die, 
Tilljl am an honored bride. 

Oh, do not strand 
On banks or sand, 

Sail safely o'er the waters; 
Bear up the weight 
Of thy precious freight, 

So dear to India's daughter. 

Soft, gentle breeze 

That woos the trees, 
With amorous breath so warm, 

Now kindly waft 

My little craft 
On its journey free of harm. 



120 Echoes from the Valley. 

A maiden's tears 
Of hopes and fears, 

Are all the tribute I have; 

Then burn, dear light, 
Till out of my sight 

You float on the sacred wave. 



(Dur £xx*c& are igtat all £ottetrtj. 

Our lives are not all lottery — 

There 's a systematic plan 
Of all actions, good or evil, 

For each woman, child or man. 

Some may boast of their good fortunes 
Some complain of their ill luck; 

But for any that will use it. 

There 's a world of wealth in pluck. 

Do you fear to slip and fall, sir? 

If you would start upon the race? 
Better far to strive and fail, sir, 

Than idly loiter in disgrace. 

Are you lonesome, weary-hearted. 
And longing for some word to bind, 



Echoes from tjie Valley 121 



With its silken chord of sympathy, 
Your heavy burthen to mankind? 

Make yourself some little effort, 
And give a word or smile of cheer 

To some other drooping spirit, 
Until it feels your presence dear. 

Gentle words and deeds of kindness, 
By the enjoyment they will give, 

Are the magic ties that bind us 
Unto each other while we live. 

'T is the pleasant recollections 
Of gentle actions we have done, 

That embalms our name with sweetness- 
In bright memories when we 're gone. 

Are you rich and growing richer? — 
Or does ambition's fires still burn? 

Kemember, others helped you — 
JSTow help you others in return? 

Always show a willing spirit — 
Throw despond upon the shelf — 

Others are more apt to help you 
When they see you help yourself. 



122 Echoes from the Valley. 



And do not forget this motto: 

Whatsoe'er in life you do. 
Promptly do ye unto others 

As you would they should do to you. 



The noblest heroes oft are those 
Of whom the world but little knows; 
]STo human hand, no mortal tongue, 
Their deeds have wrote, their valor sung. 

With heartfelt confidence and trust 
In God, convinced their cause was just, 
They gave, in heat of battle strife, 
For home and country, all — their life. 
The charge they made, the battle won, 
Recalling victory which had flown ; 
And when the shouts of triumph rose 
Above the battle's din, by foes 
Surrounded, wounded and alone, 
They fell to bleed and die unknown. 

As the sun to his rest at eve is retiring, 

All the western sky with new beauty is firing, 



Echoes from the Valley. 123 



In colors so gorgeous, resplendently bright, 

Ere wrapt in the somber curtains of night, 

Tinging the clouds with crimson and gold, 

In a grandeur that 's seen but never is told; 

Till mortals, completely enraptured, admire 

The death of the day and his funeral pyre: 

So with the warriors, who entering in 

To the conflict, determined to die or to win, 

Though steel clashing steel, and cannon's hot breath 

Encircle their path, still fearless of death, 

With courage undaunted, by duty on sped 

Where fame may be wooed and honor is wed. 

Though stricken by foes, their daring sublime 

Re-echoed shall be through the annals ot time; 

Such actions will live, though dead is each giver, 

With teachings to bless their country forever. 

Their memories are within the Nation's heart 

So deep engraved, they will never depart — 

More lasting there than if placed upon 

The sculptured stone or polished bronze, 

As told by a thankful Nation o'er, 

From lake to gulf, and from shore to shore; 

For the world has no equal for the heroes that give 

Their lives that others may be happy and live. 



124 Echoes from the Valley. 

Though so noble their lives that the sound of their 

breath 
A multitude moved, more noble their death. 
And a halo of glory forever is thrown 
'Round the death and the grave of the gallant un- 

known. 

The path of our Nation's glory has led 
O'er the mouldering forms of the patriot dead; 
From east to west, through south, through north, 
Wherever the legions of freedom went forth. 
Like leaves of the forest by autumn winds strown, 
By war, are the graves of the gallant unknown. 
Some grassy mounds, some little boards at best, 
Are all that tell us where our heroes rest 
'Mid the lilies, the violets, and roses that bloom 
With fragrance which hallows the patriot's tomb — 
While the winds of heaven a requiem moan 
O'er the silent graves of the brave unknown. 





Echoes from the Valley. 125 



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A sigh for the gallant Custer, 
That brave soldier of the plain, 

Who rode with his gallant muster, 
As he never will ride again. 

Flushed with a victor's courage, 

Grlad when snuffing the battle's breath. 

So fearless and dauntless he rides 
In that terrible raid to death. 

Bright flashing his shining saber, 
Aloft in the midsummer's sun, 

While spurring his courser forward, 
As he was leading his comrades on. 

Then' wild in the charge he revels, 
Fiercely shouting the battle yell, 

As shooting the dusky devils — 
Slaying the painted imps of hell. 



120 



Echoes from the Valley. 



Scorning all safety by flight, 

With his trustworthy guide— "For I 

Have led the men into this tight— 
They have shown me the way to die." 

Alone on the field of slaughter, 

His only guard, weapon, and shield. 

A heart with a lion's courage, 
And a saber he loved to wield. 

Boldly he faces their charges, 
On that bloody and fated field, 

Where foes were numbered thousands. 
Until death his destiny sealed. 

Then even his savage foemen, 
As he lay in his blood and gore, 

Showed him a tribute that few men 
By them had been shown before. 

There 's many dazzling story 

Of fights on the western plains, 

But the charge, the death and glory 
Of Custer, the brightest remains. 



^&&*&r^ 



Echoes from the Valley. 127 



Winch. 



? T is pluck that trains the lightning, 
That harnesses down the wind, 

Controls fierce lire and water, 
And their reckless powers bind. 

Pluck crossed the unknown ocean, 
Leaving friends and fear behind; 

Surveyed the heights of heaven, 
Unknown starry worlds to find. 

Pluck delves the highest mountains, 
Bringing hidden treasures forth ; 

Built crucibles and retorts, 
Gave to chemistry its birth. 

Pluck stores our homes with plenty, 
Pluck is master of some plan; 

Pluck is hero of all conflicts, 
Pluck's a noble friend of man. 



128 Echoes from the Valley. 

Staunch Progress is his scion, 
Bright good Culture is his heir; 

Art, Music, are his daughters, 
Born of joyful, fearless ("are. 

Pluck unfurled our banner, 
Over land and over sea; 

Defended from oppression, 

Happy homes for you and me. 

Others go, then, if you will, 

Court winsome smiles from Luck 

I '11 remain contented here, 
To work and wait with Pluck. 




Echoes from the Valley. 



129 



glrnrittg of the iolkn %kpike< 

We hail to thee, East! 
We hail to thee, West! 
And shouts of joy we raise; 
For the iron band 
Now girds our broad land. 

The task at last is done 
As dreamed in other days- 
Till the engine's blast 
Is heard at last, 

From Maine to Oregon. 

'Tis triumph of skill, 

Zeal, honor and will, 
That we exult over now; 

The sinewy arms 

Of shops and farms, 
In conquest gather here, 
Where faces are all aglow, 

As they see the steam 

And hear the scream, 
As the rushing train draws near. 



130 Echoes from the Valley. 

Ti> time of delight, 

All our hearts are light; 
For the rumbling sound we hear, 

Bring not the dread cars 

Of juggernaut mars. 
With its gory crimsoned pall — 
'Tis wealth, fleet charioteer, 

In his swift approach, 

With Mercury's coach, 
And jovous blessings for all. 

Our thanks are to those 
. Whose labor now close 
The scene of our isolation; 
And to those whose coin 
Has helped to enjoin 
(Titans of commerce are they) 
Northwest to the rest of the Nation, 
The honor is theirs — 
But we are all of us heirs 
Of triumph they bring us to-day. 

To you, brave pioneers, 
That stood many years, 
Vanguard of our growing young Nation, 






Echoes from the Valley. 131 



It brings unto you 
Reward that is due — 

The tribute of civilization. 

Light your bonfires! let their blaze 
Tint the drifting clouds and raise 

Their incense glad to-night — 

Strangers here are now your guests, 
By their presence they attest 

Their joy at your delight. 

And laugh, Columbia's waters, laugh! . 

Glad show to the world your glee; 
Deep from the fount of the future quaff 
The sweet blessings of bright prosperity. 
No longer brood 
O'er the solitude 
Of thy fettered energy, 
For this is the hour 
That breaks the power 
So long imprisoning thee. 

And sing, ye eastern spindles, sing! 

Proudly sing to the marts of trade, 
Of the joy that comes to the many homes 

Thy humming has happy made. 



132 Echoes from the Valley. 



Make actions dust 

Chafe off thy rust — 
Make the air with thy buzzing ring; 

For the world still moves, 

And this day but proves, 
That honored Labor is king. 

Thou golden grains 

Of the central plains. 
Behold a hope's fruition - 

Completed this day 

Is a grand railway, 
As pathway of thy mission. 

Queenliest of the daughters. 

Of the fathers of waters, 
As you sweep in your stately flow, 

Gladly diffuse 

The glorious news 
To the restless tides of Mexico. 

While ye, soft south wind. 

That delight to find 
And kiss the Arctic snow, 

Bear on your wing, 

As a message of spring, 
The tidings wherever you go. 



Echoes from the Valley. 133 

Blow long, ye whistle, and ring lond, ye bell! 
But your proudest effort will fail to tell 
Half of the pride that thrills the glad breast 
Of the fair young queen of the great Northwest, 
As she sits enthroned by the river side, 
Admired by all and a happy bride. 
'T is her wedding day, and blooming with health, 
She joins her hand with the prince of wealth; 

But blow, ye whistles, and ring, ye bells! 
Your merriest, loudest, and longest strain, 

Till mountain and valley, the hills and the dells, 
Send answers of welcome in sweetest .refrain. 

Thou lightning'd wires 

That never tires 
Of repeating a welcome sound, 

Tell every strike 

On that golden spike, 
To the list'ning world around; 

No more of the fears 

Of former years — 
Success with the moments increase — 

For every blow 

Of that sledge w r e know 
Will tighten our bonds of peace. 



134 Echoes from the Valley. 

Our temple of Janus is closed, 

And what a thrill of joy we feel 
At beholding the shield transposed, 

To serve as an errand wheel ; 
For Time in his course has bidden 

Its mission of blood to cease — 
Its gleaming henceforth to gladden 

As a carrier dove of peace. 

East greets the West, 
West greets the East, 

Like mother and child reunited 
Here once again 
'Mid mountain chain. 

Is the filial vows replighted. 

Then hail to thee, East! 

And hail to thee, Westf 
As the shout of joy we raise, 

For the iron band 

Now girds our land 
(And nobly the act is done!) 
As dreamed in other days, 

Till the engine's blast 

Is heard at last 
From Maine to far Oregon. 



Echoes from the Valley. 



135 




glo n't gov$et pie* 



Do n't forget me, will you darling? 
Do n't forget me when I 'm gone; 

Keep one thought — a gentle blessing- 
Do n't forget me when I 'in gone. 

Life to me has been all gladness, 
Since I met thee, dearest one; 

Fond our meeting, sad our parting — 
Do n't forget me when I 'm gone. 

Do n't forget me, will you darling? 

Though another one should come; 
None like me can love thee, darling — 

Do n't forget me when I 'm gone. 



136 Echoes from the Valley. 



I 've often stood, 

In a dreamy mood. 
On thy banks, O lovely river, 

And I 've often thought 

Of the lessons yon taught, 
And as oft have I thanked the giver. 

Bright over my head, 

Gold, purple and red, 
Spreads out the evening sky; 

In thee reflected 

I have detected 
Shadows that say as they go by: 

" Ever going, 

Ever flowing 
Onward to the deep blue sunset sea, 

We are giving 

To the living, 
Lessons that they fail to see. 

" Never getting 
Spiteful, fretting 
At whate'er would stop our flow; 






Echoes from the Valley. 137 

Sweeter, louder, 

Nobler, prouder, 

Still we sing as on we go. 

"Onward purling, 

Beauty hurling 
To the flowers that w r e find; 

Merry singing, 

As they 're swinging 
In the summer morning wind. 

" Glad do we greet 

Each breeze we meet — 
In its sports we always rejoice — 

For well we know 

Its gentlest blow 
To our silent son^s give voice. 

"The stars of night, 

The full moon bright, 
All list to the songs we sing; 

Till the pearly dawn 

Of the morning sun 
To us a new beauty bring. 

"Forward facing, 
Fleetly racing, 
To the future, swift and fast, 



138 Echoes prom thk Vaj-lky. 



Never borrowing 
Trouble, sorrowing. 
For the trials that are past. 

"Oh, so lightly, 
Blithe and sprightly, 

In our course we hasten on. 

While your dreaming, 

We are streaming 
To the sea of the setting sun. 

" Always feeling, 

As we 're reeling 
In our mazy march for home; 

He that gave us 

Source will save us 
From all trials yet to come. 

" Lovely river. 

Teach me ever 
For the future to have no dread; 

He that gave me 

Life will save me. 
When the unknown bourne I tread.'' 



Echoes from the Valley 



139 



r '\ 



p ^ p^[S^P^S^p^pi^p^PffliC^^D^I^D^[PQPS[^^p^|BC f P^ 




IP<*B $JJ ©*#♦ 



Day by day I 'm growing weaker, 

But my strength shail ever be 
In the promise of the speaker: 
" Come, ye weary, unto me." 

Day by day my faith grows stronger 
In assurance that He gave: 

Those that trust me need no longer 
Fear or dread death and the grave. 

Day by day still growing dearer, 

Unto me is Jesus' love; 
Day by day I 'm growing nearer 

To a blessed home above. 




140 Echoes from the Valley. 



yulitski 



Breathe his name with loving honor 
He for freedom nobly fell, 

In a strange and foreign country, 
'Mid a storm of shot and shell. 

Robbed by war of home and kindred. 

By the cruel tyrant's hand; 
Exiled and compelled to wander, 

Sorrowing, to a distant land. 

With his generous heart enkindled 
By the noblest theme of life; 

Led by ardent love of freedom, 
To this bleeding land of strife. 

Came to join our brave forefathers — 
Came to find a soldier's grave 

In that flood that sifigs of freedom — 
'Xeath Atlantic's restless wave. 

Breathe his name with loving honor, 

He for us did nobly die; 
And the name of Count Pulaski, 

Brings the tribute of a sigh. 



Echoes from the Valley. 141 

pmi g. gat** tyon pThim ^on &ve ©U>? 

Will I love yon when yon are old? 

Is that the question yon would ask? 
When the world growsharsh and cold, 

When life 's a burthen and a task? 

When the winters of three-score years 

Have frosted your raven hair? 
Dying hopes, awakening fears, 

Fill your anxious heart with care? 

I loved, when blushing with youth, 
A maiden so young and so fair; 

You chose the straight pathway of truth, 
That leads from a world of care. 

I love you in womanhood's glory, 

From folly and vanities freed; 
For your faith in the " old, old story," 

For the Christian life that you lead. 

And more precious by far to me 
Than all gems or glittering gold, 

Will the gracious honor then be 
Of loving you when you are old. 



142 



E< HOES FROM THE VALLEY. 




Plant a rose beside your window, 

Let its presence ever be. 
As a living sweet memento, 

Of the thoughts I bear of thee. 

When the fragrance of its blooming 
Fill your being with delight, 

Loving thoughts your time consuming, 
Filling life with pleasures bright. 

Let your sweetest thought of bli68 
Be what every life will prove — 

In such a world of care as this, 
Nought ennobles more than love. 



-^^*£t^ 



Echoes from the Valley. 143 



gaiv anh govel^* 



Fair and lovely, gentle maiden, 
Mildly beams thy soft blue eye, 

Some brave heart your love will gladden, 
In the coming by and by. 

May life's cares on thee fall lightly, 
May good angels calm thy fears; 

May thy hopes that glow so brightly, 
Be fulfilled in future years. 

Happy thoughts thy mind employing, 
Tender dreams thy slumbers fill; 

Love's rich treasures e'er enjoying, 
Till thy pulsing heart is still. 

Earnest eyes gaze all unheeding, 
Cupid, while his keenest dart, 

From his trusty bow is speeding, 
For a trusting, tender heart. 

Oh, the pains, so sweet and throbbing, 
That the little weapons give, 

Of one's self all memory robbing — 
All one does is love and live. 



1 I! 



Echoes prom the Valley. 



p^ I? Oil ( r 'UCX* Otc»y? 

Did you ever stop 

One moment to think 

That every drop 
Of gin some drink 
Is poison I 

Did you ever give 

A casual glance 
At persons who live 

By games of chance? — 

How soon they fail! 

Our lives are too short 

To trifle away — 
To spend in this sort 

Of profitless way, 

Bv vou and I. 



Echoes from the Valley. 145 



iting ©ut the CDlfc, Ittng Jin tlte glent. 



Ring out the old, ring in the new ! 
A welcome and a last adieu 

Give to the meeting years. 

A welcome to the new that brings 
Those buoyant hopes that ever flings 
Away all futile fears. 

And to the old — so soon ? t is gone — 
With whom some pleasures we have known, 
A last and fond farewell. 

They come, they go, they seem to meet 
Like friends, a moment — just to greet — - 
Then part again forever. 

Happy coming, weary going, 
Kissing, blessing, feeling, knowing, 
They soon must part again. 

Then ring out the old, ring in the new! 
Kind welcome, and a fond adieu, 

Give to the parting years. 



146 Echoes from the Valley. 



f&vtnpsvattcs Otai*. 

Hail, star of hope! whose welcome light, 
Bursting through the clouds above as 

(Hideous shrouds of moral light, 

Brooding doubt, "Does God -till love as?") 

Shine, O beauteous star, forever; 

May thy radiance never fail — 
May reforming mortals never 

Look for thy light without avail. 

As the shepherd on the mountains. 

Followed where their star would go, 
Lead the erring to those fountains 

That bright with health and pleasure flow. 

Be the herald of a dawning, 

To some soul in night of sadness, 

Of a happy, glorious morning, 

Bringing day of joy and gladness. 




'& 



Echoes from the Valley. 147 



lichen ijtftrtntr $anc%+ 



When fervid fancy paints a picture, 
Bringing loveliness to view, 

Touching all with glow of beauty, 
Darling, she presents me you. 

I 'm contented while she 's sketching, 
Showing mysteries of her art; 

"With her fascinating manner, 
Winning all my eyes and heart. 

Still, with all her skillful efforts, 
She 's but imitating nature; 

Giving me but lovely shadow 
Of by far a lovelier creature. 

Fancy is a sweet companion — 
Fickle, though, and far less true, 

Are her fleeting, airy pleasures, 
Than the joys I find with you. 



148 Echoes 'from the Valley. 



A name that 's fondly cherished, 
'Mong the noblest and the brave, 

Of the heroes that have perished, 
Rather than to live a slave. 

Where in history his superior? 

Where is one that was more just? 
He, with friends and all his foemen, 

Kept inviolate his trust. 

Led by sacred plea of friendship, 
From his home to foreign land, 

Found in waiting felon's prison — 
Death by foul deception's hand. 

Time and truth have placed their seal on 

His betrayal and its shame, 
While in justice they are writing 

San Domingo's brightest name. 

Writing name that will not perish, 
Of that negro true and brave, 

Who preferred his death and honor, 
Rather than to live a slave. 



Echoes from the Valley. 



149 




ffiibsvnia*. 



Isle of the ocean, by nature so blest. 

Compassionate hearts are sighing for thee; 

Woes of thy children, so sadly opprest, 
In sorrow have wakened Humanity's plea. 

That pleads for relief at Mercy's kind hand, 
From Avarice's curse and Misery's gloom; 

For blessing of peace to shine o'er the land — 
A patriot's pride — the patriot's tomb. 

Warm is the sympathy constantly flowing 
From Liberty's shore, Hibernia, to thee; 

And brighter the hope-star ever is growing, 
That Ireland a nation yet happy will be. 




150 



Echoes from the Valley. 




*&ev$e(xnt ga&pev* 



Unknown is the spot where the hero is sleeping, 
No monument marks the place of his grave; 

But the Nation, with pride, forever is keeping 
His name and his deeds in its list of the brave. 

"What need is there, though, of the Nation preparing 
A pillar of bronze, of sculpture and arts, 

When the people, delighted, forever are bearing 
His life and his death impressed on their hearts. 

Brave son of the South, bright honors undying, 
Have wreathed and entwined their charm to thy 
name, 

And the flag of our country, wherever 't is flying, 
Recalls to the world in its glory thy name. 




Echoes from the Valley. 



151 



pfhim (&entU ptorfcs* 



When gentle words come bubbling up, 

In kindness from thy heart; 
In flood of limpid, pure delight, 

Their joy to all impart. 

Till rippling streams of mirth shall flow 

Along the course of life, 
And bury deep beneath its gloam 

The sands of human strife. 

With eager spirit will I speed, 

And hasten to thy side, 
To quafi the bliss that 's ever found 

In sweet Contentment's tide. 

For as the spring in desert isle, 

Its crystal drops display, 
To cheer the famished, so shalt thou 

Charm all my cares away. 

Thy loving heart 's a fount of joy, 

That ever round it throws 
Refreshing dews of happiness, 

That sparkle where it goes. 



152 



Echoes i row i he Valley. 








f&Utctt 3ito*g f&ipp&b XUxc\k x v Aurora, 

When rosy-tipped finger Aurora 

Flings back the dark curtain of night, 

Diffusing her radiance o'er a 

World that is bathed in her light; 

When the feathery choir of the woodland, 
Pour forth their sweet welcoming lay. 

In their melody wild and grand. 

Saluting the bright queen of the day: 

'T is then, when awaked from my slumbers, 

I am always delighted to find 
That thoughts in unlimited numbers. 

Of thee, are ever filling my mind. 




Echoes from the Valley 



153 



pT* gift ©m* &zav\&, © ©ofr, ta ©h**?< 



We lift our hearts, O God, to thee, 
In all our prayers, and in each song; 

We feel what ever is, is right, 

And that thou doest nothing wrong. 

We know the world and all therein, 
Are but the creatures of thy hand ; 

We know that all the suns and stars 
Are shining there by thy command. 

We know while here we happy are, 
Enjoying every healthful breath, 

But, oh, we do not, can not know 
What still awaits us after death. 

We fondly hope — we can not tell — 

The judgment 's thine, and thine alone, 

That Christ who shed his blood for all, 
For us has made a full atone. 



^^^^^^ 



154 Echoes prom the Valley. 

Delightful the dawn of the morning, 
When Aurora eight's shadows erase; 

More delightful to me, however, 

Are the smiles of thy beautiful face. 



Sweet is the sound of her voice, 
As the songs that the seraphs -sing, 

In her presence my heart will rejoice, 
Like the birds at the coming of spring. 



" Constant as the polar star," 

In her ceaseless vigils keeping, 
For the loved one gone afar. 

Faith, keep watch, while love is weeping. 



'T is a law by divinity given. 

And life 's but a mission to prove, 
Ere we enter the portals of heaven, 

We must learn each other to love. 



'T is nobler far for thee to bless 

One loving soul with happiness, 

Than all the world should hear thy name 

Blown from the noisy trump of fame. 



Echoes from the Valley. 155 



Eyes that sparkle when we meet them, 
Fill us with their magic light; 

Hearts that answer when we greet them, 
Thrill our own with fond delight. 



The world will smile on creatures of luck, 
But it always admires the game 

Of the spirit that 's blest with the pluck 
To earn its way into fame. 



A smile of the lips, a glance of the eye, 
The thrilliDg of hearts, a sigh for a sigh, 
Are tokens of life that ever will prove 
That love is responsive to pleadings of love. 



How the serpent-tongue of scandal 
Will spew its slime o'er names that w T on, 
In its coils for ghoulish gossip, 
To gloat, and gorge itself upon. 



In water bright, 

Our friendship plight, 

And I for one would rather 
That death (dread word) 
Should break the cord, 

Than we such bonds should sever. 



156 Echoes prom the Valley. 



I low dcai- the time —how very sweet 
When spirit kindred spirit meet : 
When heart and sou] leap forth to greet, 
With blessing pure, their love. 



Pit} 7 me, when those I 've trusted, 
Scorn and turn from me disgusted; 
Sad is the thought, but worse the fate 
When love lies slain by murd-'rous hate. 



You ask me to write in your album - 
I hasten with pleasure to do it; 

Do you wondering ask, " Do I love you?" 
I thought that you already knew it. 



As rays of the sun sufficient, 
The bud of the roses to bloom. 

The dews of the heaven proficient, 
Instilling the richest perfume, 

So the glance of your eyes are sending 
A thrill of delight to my heart : 

And the smiles of your face are blending, 
With visions that never depart. 



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